Pivotal Performance
Adapted by Channie Koplowitz Stein
The inauguration of the Mishkan was accompanied by much jubilation and celebration. On the eighth and final day, Rosh Chodesh Nissan, three special offerings were brought. One was, naturally, for the inauguration of the Mishkan, another for Nachshon Prince of the Tribe of Yehudah, and the third was the special Rosh Chodesh offering.
Shortly before these offerings were to be brought, Aharon's two older sons, Nadav and Avihu, had brought an unauthorized incense offering, and Hashem consumed them. [A discussion of their motivation and Hashem's response is a topic for another time.] The question now arose: Would Aharon and his sons, who were now in a state of mourning, onen, be permitted, obligated, or ritually exempt from partaking of the meat of these sacrifices. Aharon and his sons ate of the first two sacrifices, but wholly burnt the Rosh Chodesh sacrifice as an olah, without partaking of its meat.
Moshe Rabbenu was angry at Elazar and Itamar for not partaking of this Rosh Chodesh sin offering. Aharon responded to Moshe's accusation, asking, "Now that [the deaths of my sons] befell me, were I to eat this day's sin offering, would Hashem approve?" And Moshe accepted this response.
The question arises why they all ate of the first two offerings but refused to eat of the Rosh Chodesh offering. The Ner Uziel explains that the first two offerings were one time offerings, unique to the inauguration of the Mishkan, while the third offering, the Rosh Chodesh offering, was a recurring offering that would be brought every month. Given these unique circumstances, Aharon and his remaining sons were permitted and required to partake of these unique offerings even though they were in mourning. Moshe Rabbenu thought that they should also be required to eat of the Rosh Chodesh guilt offering, but Aharon dissented.
Would it not have sufficed for the Torah to just give us the halachah, the laws of a priest in mourning and partaking of the sacrifices? Why record the conversation between Moshe Rabbenu and Aharon Hakohein? As Rabbi Feldman points out in Tiferet Tzvi, there are many lessons we can learn from the conversations of Torah giants. Here we have a beautiful model of derech eretz, proper behavior. Certainly Elazar and Itamar had the same knowledge and argument to defend themselves, but they would not be disrespectful to Moshe Rabbenu. However, their father, Aharon Kohein Gadol and Moshe's older brother could respond for them. Indeed, Aharon did respond, placing the focus on Hashem, and Moshe accepted Aharon's reasoning as legitimate.
In Ben Melech, Rabbi Minsburg zt”l clarifies the conflicting understandings of Moshe and Aharon. Moshe Rabbenu viewed all three of these offerings as contributing to the glory of Hashem on this day. He felt there should be no mourning, since even the deaths of Nadav and Avihu were glorification of Hashem's Name, as Hashem said, "Bikrovi akadash/I will be sanctified through those who are nearest to me." Therefore, reasoned Moshe, Aharon and the remaining sons should partake of all these korbanot and not diminish God's sanctity through mourning. Aharon's argument, on the other hand, was that there was special power in these unique, once only, offerings, while the power of the "regular" offering of Rosh Chodesh was not as great and could not offset the grief and reality of his great loss.
With this consideration, writes Rabbi Minsberg, we have our first introduction to Torah sheb'al peh, the authority of oral transmission of Torah, the gift Hashem gave us to partner with Him in understanding and interpreting Torah law to conform to His will in accordance with real circumstances. With this gift, we have the ability to bring Hashem's presence to rest among us. Moshe, having learned from Hashem Himself atop Sinai, accepts this decision as Torah law.
A Torah scholar is not like the scholars of other disciplines. Secular scholars may have tremendous knowledge, but often do not internalize that wisdom. A Torah scholar, on the other hand, must live the wisdom of the Torah. As Rabbi Shmuelevitz zt”l points out, the 48 ways of acquiring Torah all have a basis in some positive character trait. A Torah scholar does not leave his wisdom in the Beis Medrash, but carries it with him as the guide to his daily life.
Rabbi Birnbaum zt”l, in Bekorai Shemo, finds an additional concept embedded in this dialogue. Aharon introduced the benchmark of "pleasing to Hashem" as a contributory element to establishing halachah. While certain actions or omissions may not be technically sinful, measure it against the benchmark of that which would please Hashem. Our Patriarchs understood this concept. Therefore they observed mitzvoth of the Torah before the Torah was given to mankind, keeping these observances only in Eretz Yisroel with its special sanctity, realizing that these laws would indeed become universal after Sinai but were pleasing to Hashem until then.
The offering in question was the Rosh Chodesh sin offering. Rabbi Munk zt”l, citing the Ramchal zt”l, interprets Aharon's argument as being based on the offering itself. The other two offerings were not meant to provide atonement as was this one. How could we assume Hashem has forgiven us when Hashem killed my other two sons who erroneously brought a guilt offering? As Rabbi Birnbaum notes, even when observing a mitzvah, one should act in a way most pleasing to Hashem, not robotically. Make mitzvah observance a joyful experience, not just an item on a to do list.
During this omer period when we hope to move from our animalistic nature connected to eating barley to our higher, human nature that uses wheat for human bread, we keep counting the omer, constantly referring to the barley rather than to the wheat. Rabbi Bernstein suggests that we do this to remember the loyalty of the animal to its master, and thereby to retain our connection to Hakodosh Boruch Hu, our Master.
Rabbi Kestenbaum develops this idea further. The Gemarrah states that "even the empty ones among you are filled with mitzvoth like a pomegranate." How could they be filled and still empty? When they perform the mitzvoth perfunctorily, without concentrating on using the mitzvah, or reciting the blessing to create and maintain a relationship with Hashem. Although we may have garnered individual mitzvoth like the seeds of a pomegranate, we have failed to create a unified, whole connection to Hashem; we have failed to taste the olam habo of our future.
Rabbi Uziel Milevsky zt”l gives us a Kabbalistic explanation for the guilt offering of Rosh Chodesh, tracing its origin back to creation itself. After Hashem created the sun and the moon as equals, the moon arrogantly implied he should be greater than the sun. In response, Hashem diminished the moon, and it now waxes and wanes throughout time. Similarly, Adam also succumbed to arrogance when the serpent told him he would be equal to the Creator if he ate the forbidden fruit. He too was diminished. Bnei Yisroel are meant to rectify the sin of Adam and return the world to its original sanctity, a condition they had neared achieving with accepting the Torah and constructing the Mishkan. The Rosh Chodesh sin offering was meant to rectify those original sins. Moshe felt that had Aharon and his sons eaten of this offering, they would have achieved this goal. But Aharon argued that applying the logic implicit in Torah law [that a mourner may not eat of these sacrifices], prohibited him from eating of the Rosh Chodesh offering. Moshe was upset that Aharon had not taken this golden opportunity, and now Jewish national life would forever wax and wane through history like the moon itself.
There is yet another, allegorical interpretation of this medrash. Rabbi Wolfson zt”l suggests that the Rosh Chodesh sin offering is meant to symbolically atone for Hashem's "sin." Allegorically, the sun represents Hashem while the moon represents all of creation. If the two appear equal, Hashem's presence imbues the entire world to such an extent that there is no choice but to recognize Hashem and to bond with Him. But Hashem wants man to choose to bond with Him. Thus, He must reduce His visible presence in the world. With God's presence hidden, man can deny God, and sin. God therefore wants atonement for allowing evil and sin to enter the world. Since this was the result of the moon's argument with Hashem, the guilt offering would be brought on the New Moon each month.
Often it is in the darkness that we find God. Rebbetzin Smiles reminded us of the interviews with October 7th hostages, particularly Sasha Troufanov, who found God and connected with Him in the dark Gaza tunnels. Hashem finds us wherever we are. He never gives up on us, even when we are lost in a sect in the Far East.
Moshe Rabbenu thought that this Rosh Chodesh guilt offering would also be a unique, one time offering like the other offerings. The moon would return to its original light, and God's presence would again be visible throughout the world. This time, mankind forged the relationship with Hashem by choice rather than by the overwhelming, irrefutable evidence of coercion.
Nadav and Avihu were destined to be taken by Hashem's fire on that Rosh Chodesh Nissan. The Guilt offering on this day was meant to be incomplete [by the kohanim not eating of it], but was meant to be a step in the perfection of the world, a sanctification through those nearest Me.
We are told that Nadav and Avihu were drinking wine at this auspicious occasion. The Shvilei Pinchas adds this detail to our narrative. A major opinion of Chazal is that the forbidden fruit was the wine of the grapes. Nadav and Avihu were drinking wine to rectify Adam's sin and to return the world to that sanctified condition.
With great emunah we recognize Hashem and there is no concealment. Women recognize this. It was women's faith that was the catalyst for the first redemption, and it will be women's faith that will help bring the final redemption when the sun and moon will again be equal, and man's bond with Hashem will remain strong and unbroken. Therefore, Rosh Chodesh is traditionally a holiday specifically celebrated by women. Women tend to recognize Hashem even in His hiddenness, in the light that escapes through the cracks of the darkness.